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Full text of "Mathura A District Memoir"

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THE CHAUSXSI PADA.                                        -          215
together with arms about each other's neck and cheek to cheek, by sach
delicious contact making a circle of wanton delight. As they dance, the
dark swain and the fair damsel, pipe and dram and cymbal blend in sweet
concert with the tinkling of the bangles on her wrists and ankles and the
girdle round her waist. Sri Hit Hari Vans, rejoicing at the sight of the
damsels* dancing and their measured paces, tears Ms soul from his body and
lays them both at their feet,
XL " The pavilion is a bright and charming spot; Hadha and Hari
are In glistening attire and the fall-orbed autumnal moon is resplendent in
the heaven. The dark-hued swain and* nymph of golden sheen, as they toy
together, show like the lightning's Hash and sombre cloud. In saffron ves-
ture he and she in scarlet ; their affection deep beyond compare; and the
air; cool, soft and laden with perfumes. Their couch is made of leaves and
blossoms and he woos her In dulcet tones, while coyly the fair one repulses
ills every advance. Love tortures Mohan's soul, as he touches her bosom,
or waist-band, or wreath, and timorously she cries *off, off.* Pleasant is
the sporting of the glorious lord, close-locked in oft-repeated embrace, and
like an earth-reviving river is the flood of his passion.
XIL    u Come Hadha, you knowing one, your paragon of lovers   tas
started a dance on the bank of the Jamuna's stream. Bevies of damsels
are dancing in all the abandonment of delight; the joyous pipe gives forth
a stirring sound. IlTear the Bansi-bat, a sweetly pretty spot, where the
spicy air breathes with delicious softness, where the half-opened jasmine fills
the world with overpowering fragrance, beneath the clear radiance of the
autumnal fall moon, the milkmaids with raptured eyes are gazing on your
glorious lord? all beautiful from head to foot, qnlck to remove love's every
pain. Pat your arms about his neck, fair dame, pride of the world, and
lapped In the bosom of the Ocean of delight, disport yourself with Syam in
Ms blooming bower."
If ever the language of the brothel was borrowed for temple use, It has
been so here* But, strange to say, the G-osalns, who accept as their Gospel
these sensuous ravings of a morbid Imagination, are for the most part highly
respectable married men, who contrast rather favourably, both in sobriety
of life and intellectual acquirements, with1 the professors of rival sects that
are based on more reputable authorities. Several of them have a good know-
ledge of literary Hindi; but their proficiency in Sanskrit Is not very high ;
the best informed among them being unable to resolve into its constituent